


One Wire, Two Wire, Red Wire, Blue Wire

by firelord65



Series: Fecky's Whumptober Oneshots [11]
Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: But he struggles with Electrical tasks, Canon-Typical Violence, Cyan just wants to do a good job, Gen, NB!Imposter, POV Alternating, The Skeld (Among Us), White acting kinda Sus, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: Cyanhatestrying to rewire anything. It always seems like those tasks will be the death of him.
Series: Fecky's Whumptober Oneshots [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950469
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	One Wire, Two Wire, Red Wire, Blue Wire

**Author's Note:**

> Beep beep, it's me again!! Back with my favorite duo, Cyan and White, getting into all kind of nonsense on the Skeld. 
> 
> Day 11: Psych 101 - ~~Defiance~~ | Struggling | ~~Crying~~

Cyan _hated_ wiring. He wasn’t very comfortable when working with electricity to begin with in the best of circumstances. He had read too many articles and one-page hazard communications from MIRA to trust anything having to _do_ with wiring. Yet he was constantly assigned to the task. It seemed that the Skeld was held together with electrical tape and prayers, potentially because of others doing a half-ass job like Cyan. 

Each time that the task was assigned to him, Cyan would try to pass it off to Black or Pink or even Orange. Sure, it might not be done well if Orange - “Mr. Cheese” as he insisted and no one obliged - did it, but it would save Cyan from the danger of arcing electricity carrying into his very much _not_ insulated suit. 

Today though there was no opportunity to pass off the task to someone else. Everyone’s logs were full up. Overfilled, actually, since the ship had left Polus without a full crew complement. The seven crewmates would need to work overtime before getting dinner tonight to hit each required task. And so, Cyan was stuck with his least favorite assignment. 

He put it off. He painstakingly cleared the asteroids from their upcoming nav path. And emptied the air vents of the random debris that the intakes took in from Storage. He even lugged two separate, over-filled containers of fuel to the upper and lower engines. Each time that he walked past the panels that had been assigned to him, Cyan made sure that he was _obviously_ working on a much more critical task.

That was before the lights cut out. Black shoved past him in the hall as he moved to electrical, cursing under her breath. “This wouldn’t be happening if _someone_ bothered to stop the shorts in circuit seven,” she growled. Cyan started after her, his hands using the walls to guide him. 

Black whirled around, her lamp blaring brightly in Cyan’s face. “Don’t bother, Cyan,” she snapped. “ _I’ve_ got it. You’re only going to make rebooting harder if I’ve got to keep fixing your mistakes.”

Cyan stopped in his tracks, heat rising on his face. He was thankful for the helmets they all wore. No doubt Black had a murderous expression as well; she had a viper’s tongue and a snarl to match. 

The fact that she had a point made it all the worse. Cyan swallowed any retort and nodded his head dejectedly. Black scoffed again and resumed her path to Electrical. Cyan turned on his heel and pulled up his map on his tablet. He had put off the task for long enough. Everything else was checked off. Hey, if he got everything fixed, there was even a chance that Black wouldn’t need to reroute anything in electrical. 

Bolstered by his own determination, Cyan walked confidently back through the Lower Engine to the first panel highlighted on his map. The lights were still out, which made things more complicated. He flipped on his personal light and yanked the panel off of the wall to expose the wiring behind. That was when his hands started to shake. 

This happened every time. Cyan bit his tongue and pulled out the replacement wiring from his toolbelt. He bided his time and tried to sooth the shakes by first checking which wires needed replacement. Then he rolled out the new length of wire and cut some matching colored electrical tape. If he was going to do this, then he was going to do it right from the get-go. 

With a wariness that came from nursing more than a handful of electrical burns on his fingers, Cyan tapped each of the ends with the back of his hand. No sparks arced. That was a good sign. He lifted his head to check the lights. Still out. 

There was nothing more he could do to delay the inevitable. He had to actually fix the wires now. 

* * *

White sat in the vent, utterly flabbergasted. They had been watching the Reactor for a while, trying to decide if it would be fun to sabotage it. Ultimately they changed their mind, choosing to chow down on some wiring instead to cut the lights. It would take a while for the crew to bypass it, giving them plenty of time to find someone new to snack on. The last time that White had eaten had been on Polus, almost a lifetime ago or so their stomach told them. 

But what was astounding them right now was Cyan. The idiot was in plain view in the hall and clearly about to start some benign wiring task. While the lights were still out. Did he have no sense of self-preservation? 

Still, White watched for a minute longer. Even as the alarms continued to blare about lights, Cyan remained focused on his task. A little too focused, actually. White dared to slip out of the vent and edge closer to the hallway to get a better look. Cyan was hunched over his tools, carefully snipping individual pieces of color-coded tape and sticking them in little flags on the legs of his suit. 

White narrowed their eyes. This… this was too easy. Wasn’t it? Cyan picked out his pliers and tried to use them to wrap the stripped ends of his prepared wires to the dead circuits in the wall. After every twist, Cyan would jump in his suit and pull his free hand away, like he was about to be zapped. White bit down on their tongue to keep from letting out a hissing laugh. _Cyan was a_ moron _! This was too perfect._

Edging closer, White debated if this was perhaps bait. Maybe they had acted up and Cyan was making up this big performance to catch them acting suspiciously. 

Cyan let out an audible exhale when he finished twisting the first end of the wire. White stepped closer. They could see fine in the dark, but Cyan probably wouldn’t notice they were standing there until they were both inches from one another. Cyan continued to work on his task, moving his pliers dutifully to the opposite end of the new wire and slo-o-o-wly touching it to the fried end in the wall. Another relieved sigh. White almost borrowed the human mannerism and rolled their eyes. 

This was just painful to watch, honestly. White pulled up their hacked tablet and flipped the three doors shut that would lead to this section of hall. They left the Reactor open once more to be able to slip into the vent and back into safety. 

The noise of the doors hissing shut didn’t bother Cyan. He was laser-focused on his task. White cocked their head and watched, astounded, as Cyan had _still_ not managed to finish the _first_ wire. “Having a tough time?” White finally said. 

Cyan whirled around, his light making White immediately cover their helmet visor. The darkness was so much more preferable. Cyan dropped his tools in a clatter. He stammered a bit before dropping down to pick up all the individual strips of wire. “White! Oh, geeze, how long have you been standing there? Tell me you haven’t been just watching,” Cyan whinged. 

White debated telling the truth. It wouldn’t matter, really. Cyan would be dead momentarily after all. While they were considering it, Cyan extended a hand and dropped a fistful of wires into White’s. “Can you hold these?” Cyan asked expectantly as he bent down to pick up the other tools. “I can’t focus if I’ve got too much stuff on hand. Might cross a wire and then - _zzzzt!_ ” He made a cartoonish sound and waved his hands around in a mockery. Death was always sweet and satisfying, not boorish and loud. White spread their lips in a smile. They would enjoy this.

“S-s-s-ure,” they hissed. Cyan extended his hand in a thumbs up. Then he turned around, once again intent on only the tiny, inconsequential noodles in front of him. White edged closer. Cyan should thank them for putting him out of his misery. He wouldn’t have to do wiring again. 

The lights bloomed overhead, slowly warming back to full strength. Cyan let out a little gasp and - naturally - dropped his pliers again. 

White had had enough of this. They tossed the handful of wires over their shoulder and twisted their helmet off with practiced motion. The atmosphere in the Skeld didn’t agree with their constitution, but they would put up with it for the sweet, irresistible taste of flesh. In another quick motion, White surged forward. 

Cyan wouldn’t have to do another re-wire task again.


End file.
